Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Saltwater State Park

I went to Saltwater State Park recently. I appreciated that the park told me to "Observe and Respect Beach Sea Life" but wasn't as keen on the park telling me "Do Not Remove Shells from Beach." I love removing shells from the beach! Over my years, I have found all manner of delightful treasure on the beach. The way I deal with the disappointment of not taking any shells home while still participating in the very enjoyable hobby of beach combing is by taking pictures of some of the coolest shells and stones I found. 

The beach itself was a beauty to behold also. Lots of mossy rocks and lightly lapping saltwater waves.

We saw some animals while there: crows visiting from the city to feast upon acres of barnacles, a stoic great blue heron and little crabs dancing upon the seashore rocks.

Once a long time ago, Native American tribes went to this area to harvest shellfish. Now there are signs discouraging consumption of shellfish because it is toxic. I don't know what happened between then and now that a once abundant source of food became labeled as toxic. But no one eats the shellfish how except those foolishly brave or curious.

There is a log cabin in Saltwater State Park that once was the home to the parks rangers. After long hours in the park, rangers would come back to the cabin and cook up a meal of baked beans or stew. They'd sit on the edge of their bed and read books about wild men exploring wild places, relating to it all within their core. Eventually they would fall asleep to the sound of the woods: wind in the trees, crickets, croaking frogs, lonely howls, the rustle of leaves. Now, the log cabin is used as a natural history museum. I didn't go in when I was there, but I imagine there are stuffed mountain lions and skunks like most park natural history museums. They always say all specimens were found as roadkill so you don't have to feel bad about the thrill of close proximity to something so marvelous as that which was once a mountain lion. 

No comments :